'Dont worry about a thing.'
Bob Marley’s words were played out over the radiotherapy radio as my mask was clamped on.
It was a very hot Monday afternoon and I had struggled all morning with both pain and energy.
My symptoms were hitting hard.
So it actually felt like a relief to be clamped to the table for my TrueBeam delivery of radiation, both to escape the overwhelming heat in London and my anxious mind which had run wild all morning.
It’s certainly an interesting observation: to feel less anxious when clamped to the radiation machine than when I am at home.
But I think maybe it’s due to all the time waiting around for the radiation sessions leaves my mind wondering into the future of “what-ifs?”.
As I sit waiting for my last session of the week I am happy that I have managed to still cycle 40 minutes home every day this week from hospital. It’s not always been easy but I have done it.
This has helped me more mentally than anything else and I know going forward that’s where I am going to need the most support.
Even though my physical body is struggling, I can feel my mind is under its biggest challenge yet.
It’s tough sitting in the hospital every day, seeing so many people in pain or facing medical challenges.
I think that’s why I really need my bike ride home as I move from patient to just feeling like a healthy human on his bike. The ride home is my escape, I am so focused on staying present for those 40 minutes that it calms my mind.
Where I am struggling is how to keep my mind off the “what-ifs?” for the rest of my day.
As my radiotherapy load accumulates so does my fatigue. Sleeping has become a way of coping with my racing mind for now, but I know that’s not a long-term strategy.
As I sit reflecting on another week and how I am going to manage mentally going forward I tentatively start to write my goals for the rest of this year knowing my treatment finishes soon. However, I am sitting looking at a blank sheet of paper unable to write anything.
I know that it’s important to get something written down but the overwhelming feelings of what will happen post-treatment is causing me to freeze.
I think back to one of my appointments this week where I was waiting while chatting to two older guys.
I quickly realised it was not them who were there to get treated but someone they were waiting for.
They were telling me about this man who had been in for hours with prostrate cancer and about his journey from playing football to now barely being able to walk.
I was expecting a man in is late 50s to appear from machine C. I was shocked he was a similar age to myself and I could see he was in extreme pain.
We shared a short upbeat conversation about how much this journey sucks, how we stay strong and the impact for those around us.
If you are a regular here you will know I absorb many of the people I meet and their journeys and it always hits me hard.
What has struck me this week is the amount of young people and the amount of men facing prostate cancer. As I chatted to my fellow patient he told me about his stage-four diagnoses and how if he had noticed the early signs he could have avoided where he was now. Those words bounced around my mind all week.
Part of the narrative of my thinking was I am not sure I could handle another tumour and, at 46, it’s worth testing to check my own prostate, but I am hoping if you are reading this or know someone approaching 50 that going for this test could be life-saving.
I know this step can be scary but if I have learned anything during this week’s treatment it is that cancer can hit anyone at any time and one of the best ways of having a better outcome is getting an early diagnosis.
So, as I leave you this week to enjoy your weekend I encourage you to keep a close eye on your body and, if in doubt, get tested.
